


I Should Have Known Better

by Eucalyyptus



Category: The Beatles
Genre: But I think it's not too bad, Cute, Fluff, I don't really know actually, John had a wet dream, John is bored, John slept at Paul's, Kisses, M/M, Male Slash, Non-Penetrative Sex, Not enough tho', Paul is busy, Tale, The summary sucks, Two shots, Wild kisses actually, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-03 02:30:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14558901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eucalyyptus/pseuds/Eucalyyptus
Summary: John is bored, so, naturally, he went to disturb Paul.They talked, and Paul played and sang for him, but they both got sleepy. Paul let John sleep in his house and, to thank him, John told him a lovely tale.The next morning, John woke up because of his wet dream... and things went wild.Then, George felt like trying something and Ringo was here, looking so innocent with his big blue eyes.(i'm so bad with summaries)





	1. THE TALE

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I suck with summaries, but I hope you'll still like it !  
> I had this on my computer, just a 500 words beginning, and, I don't know, yesterday I just wrote a lot about it.  
> I'm working on the second part, and you can expect some sex, eheh. And Starrison will be here too.  
> Anyway,  
> I really hope you'll like it. Bonne lecture ! (it's french) (I guess it's like ; Have a great time reading it !)

"Paul."

John's raspy voice broke the silence. Singing Twist and Shout wasn't that easy for him, and he sang it a lot that day.

"Paul, Paul, Paul."

He was almost singing his name. His voice was covering the others one in the studio.

"Paulie, Paulie boy !"

" _What_ , John? I'm trying to write, ye know."

"Yes, but I'm _bored._ "

Paul sighed and looked at John. He was pouting like a real child. His glasses were on his nose, for once. Paul couldn't help but smile at him.

"Then, help me with tha'."

John mumbled something but he sat down on the couch, next to Paul. He took his little notebook and threw it ; Paul stared at it while the pages hit the ground next to the door.

"Hey, John!"

He was almost pissed off. Okay, nobody told them to make another song, but he really wanted to write something fine, just in case they needed a new one. Time was rare for them, and today was pretty calm ; even if they recorded a lot and were all tired. Paul looked at the clock. It was already past ten and the sky was dark, outside. He didn't realized it was this late.

"Play for me."

Paul frowned and looked at John.

"Why? I mean, not that I don't want to."

"I want you to play Twenty Flight Rock for me."

Paul remembered the Woolton Village Fete. He smiled and ran a hand through his hair. He then took one of the guitar next to them. It was a right-handed one and, with a smirk, Paul took it upside-down.

"Then, I will."

"Like in the ol' days."

Said John, with a little smile. Paul began to play, then to sing, looking sometimes at John, sometimes at his own fingers. He played Twenty Flight Rock so often back then that he could still remember every movement he needed to do. He still played it sometimes, when he was alone or when he was nostalgic. Maybe John was nostalgic. Or drunk, like he was a few years ago. Well, no, he wasn't drunk. Paul would know it. They had this kind of bond ; they always knew what was in each other's mind. Paul was the only one who could actually told John when he was going off-limits. It was the same for John. They were both so close that they knew probably every thoughts of the other. People knew how close they were and never tried to break that. Their mums' deaths also helped them being that close ; sometimes, they would cry for hours, just the two of them, mumbling about how they missed them, hugging each other.

Paul, somehow, loved this moments, when it was just John and him being close friends. John, being older, was kind of his mentor. Actually, John was a lot of things for Paul. Maybe he was _everything_ for him? His voice cracked on the last notes and John raised an eyebrow.

"Tha' sure was good. D'ye have something on your mind?"

He asked with an amused, yet worried, look.

"I guess, yeah."

He put the guitar down on the small table in front of them and then sat back down on the couch. John was waiting for him to talk.

"Ye know, we're _close_. I was just thinking 'bout tha'."

"Is me little Paulie boy gonna blush?"

John laughed while moving closer to him ; Paul rolled his eyes and sighed but John could swear he was blushing a bit.

"I mean, not physically, John. I was serious."

"I know you were. I always know _everything_ 'bout ye."

Paul laughed, but his laughter stopped when he realized that John was totally serious.

"You should say that to a _bird,_ Johnny."

"Ah, but you know that - that I screw up everytime but, er, I'm really... Yesterday, I..."

He stopped, frowning, looking at his hand. Yesterday. Yesterday, before they went home, John and Paul had an argument. All of a sudden, John told Paul that he was driving him crazy. Not in a romantic way, more in an angry one. Paul was too surprised to say anything and John just said that the Beatles, the Beatlemania - everything was driving him crazy. That he wanted to hurt them. Earlier, Paul kissed a girl and John chased her out, using a pretext. But then, he told him that she was just a bad-looking bird, a stupid one, and he was really pissed off because they "almost banged" in front of them. It sure did hurt Paul, and he just shook his head, saying that he was going too far. He left, and spent his night worrying about his John. But Paul knew how John was. He always had this personnality - the sarcastic, nice and soothing one and the impulsive, cold and mean one. And he knew that he was trying his best to control everything in his mind ; but it was hard. And sometimes, he would just... go mad and Paul was the only one who could stop him or understand what was happening.

"That was- That was something, yeah."

"Yes. I... It was just... just _too much_ at the moment, and, ye know, we worked a lot, I was tired, the girls were still outside, screaming... I'm not trying to innocent myself, I know I screwed up. But, yeah I-I wasn't really thinking and I said too much again."

"Yeah."

"So I... I'm _sorry_ , Paul."

His glasses were on the tip of his nose when he looked at Paul.

"You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

John smiled, almost weakly. Paul smiled back.

"I know how you are, John. I know how it is in your head, more or less, so yeah. Let's just forget that."

"You'll do a perfect husband, Paulie."

He laughed, like nothing happened. Even if a few seconds ago, he was apologizing, nervous and unsure of him. He only showed himself that vulnerable to Paul, most of the times, and sometimes to George or Ringo. He put his head on Paul's thighs and his feet on the couch while yawning.

"I'm tired."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"Sing something, again. I think I'll sleep there."

Paul laughed while secretly thinking. What song? He started singing From Me To You. John took his glasses off, putting them on the table, and closed his eyes, listening to him with a little smile. Paul slowly began to caress his hair, and the world around them slowly disappeared. It was just Paul's voice, his fingers playing with auburn locks of hair, John slowly beginning to fall asleep on his lap. It was just the two of them, and nobody would dare disturbing them.

By the end of the song, Paul thought that John was asleep. He slowly let his thumbs run on his cheek. The eldest looked so relaxed now that Paul himself felt very calm. It was at this moment that Paul felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, his eyes falling into Ringo's big blue eyes.

"Lads, we should go home. It's getting late."

John moved, a small groan leaving his lips. Paul just slowly nodded, and gently looked back at him.

"C'mon, John, we have to go. Ye can't sleep there."

"But..."

He mumbled and slowly sat back down. He looked almost drunk because of the lack of sleep. He turned and looked at Paul with a tired look.

"Sleep with me, t'night."

It wasn't even a question ; it was an order. Paul didn't mind. He slept a lot of times with John, they were both used to it.

"Okay. Let's go, mh?"

John slowly nodded and they both stood up. George and Ringo were waiting for them, and the four of them left the studios, quickly saying goodbye to everyone inside.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After long minutes, Paul finally was in front of his house. He quickly came in, John following, and he was truly walking like a zombie. Paul pushed the door open, came in, locked it behind them.

"Mmmh. Love this place."

"I kno' you do."

With that said, John walked directly to the bedroom, where Paul's king-size bed was. On his way, he took his shoes and his socks off, quickly unbuttoned his shirt and threw it somewhere in the dark room. Paul did the same thing. Seeing how his best friend was tired wasn't helping and he found himself pretty exhausted too. They both fell on the bed, and John moaned in relief.

"Paul."

"Mmh, John?"

"C'm'ere..."

Paul groaned but he moved closer. John rolled, ended up on his chest, and he quickly put his head on Paul's torso, wrapping an arm around his belly.

"Ye're so comfy..."

The bassist chuckled, but quickly moved, not really comfortable.

"Mhh, ye, c'm'ere. I'm not fine like tha'."

John rose an eyebrow but he was slowly put completely on Paul. He smiled, amused, but stayed like that, his whole body pressed against his. No spooning for them. They knew George and Ringo liked to spoon, but Paul and John weren't really comfortable with that. It always ended up with one of them on top of the other or in a weird knot of members without any sense.

John let his hand slide on Paul's chest and finally rested his head against his own arm, the other sliding on Paul's side. He groaned, wondering what was the best position, and his second hand finally came around his neck.

"Gosh, stop movin'..."

John smiled but a satisfied sigh escaped him, and he stopped moving. Paul put his arm around him, closed his eyes. He could feel John's calm heartbeat, his breath on his skin, and he was totally ready to fall asleep when John talked again.

"Don't have a wet dream, mh? I don't want to feel _little Paulie_ t'morro'."

"Don't be silly..."

John smirked and Paul just laughed, which was a funny sensation for John.

"If it happens, it's all yer fault. So don't blame me."

"What a naughty boy, Paulie..."

"Well, same thing goes for ye, Johnny."

"I can control meself, deary."

They both laughed but the silence came back. This time, Paul broke it. He was unable to see John on him because it was really dark ; but he felt how his breath moved on his chest.

"John?"

"What?"

"Tell me a story."

"Okay, Paulie. Ye're a real kid, aren't ye?"

Paul shrugged and John smirked again. He put his head back down on his arm, lost in his thoughts.

"Once upon a time, on a planet with no name, in a town with no name, was a castle. It was in a wild, dark forest, and the poor peasants were scared to go there because there was a lot of rumors about this forest. But in this castle was the king of the country, and his two daughters."

The bassist's arm held John closer because he was almost falling when he was talking.

"The king was a nice man, but he was very strict. His daughters would marry the princes from the country next to theirs. They would keep the houses, be good and nice wives. It was the original plan."

"What was their names?"

"Michaela and Pauline."

"Wow, well done. I wonder who they might be."

"Hush, Paulie. So, this was the plan for this two nice girls. Pauline was okay with it ; but, secretly, she was a writer and a musician. She loved playing music ; especially with the big piano of her father. Her father allowed her ; but it was just because he was scared she might feel alone, even if she was always with her younger sister."

John stopped, thinking about what would come next. With a smirk, he kept going.

"In town, there was a young man. He was a musician, more or less, and he wanted to play music forever. Except, a mean God put him in a family where he wasn't able to play as much as he wanted. He wasn't able to learn everything he wanted to learn. He thought that a witch probably threw a curse on him."

Paul chuckled at the description, but his hand came on John's head, slowly caressing his hair like he did when they still were at the studios. John didn't mind.

"There was a rumor in town ; there was a wizard in the forest, who was really nice. Some people said that he was able to make all of your wishes come true. The musician decided that he would go to this very wizard and ask him about his curse. So, he went to find this wizard."

"And?"

"There was trees everywhere -"

"Well, it's a forest."

"Yeah, but it looked like a jungle, and the musician wasn't good with orientation. He was lost before he realized it. He fell on a root, and a branch tore his pants' leg."

"Poor boy."

"Mh-mh. It was getting dark outside, and soon, the night fell on him. How was he supposed to find a wizard in the dark? He suddenly felt really, really angry. **'What a stupid plan, what a stupid place, what a stupid town, I hate this country !'** He said, in rage, kicking a bush."

"This guy should probably learn how to control his emotions."

"The musician would have probably insult you. Anyway, he was really pissed off. Spending a night all alone in the dark forest wasn't part of the plan. He hated when things weren't going his way. But he wasn't that stupid, you know, and he had his guitar with him. Truth was, he was a bit scared of the dark, but he loved music. So he decided that his guitar was gonna help him. And he started to play. He wasn't a good musician, everybody knew it in town. But he was alone in the forest, what was the point of playing like a God when there was none to hear him?"

"He's not wrong.."

"' **What's this?'** A deep voice came from behind him. He almost fell again, and turned around. The wizard was standing there, with a big branch in his hand. Well, what was looking like a branch, except a gentle light was coming out of it. The musician stopped playing and wondered what he was supposed to do. The wizard was a bit scary, he looked young yet a bit older. He had a beard, which the musician didn't have. **'Ye're the one playin' music?'** He asked while looking at him. The musician slowly nodded, noticing that he had the same accent - so, he was coming from the town too."

"Maybe the town's name is Liverpool."

"The town doesn't have a name, love. Anyway, the musician started to talk to him about how he was unable to play correctly. The wizard took him to his place, and he looked inside a crystal ball. _'Ye'll find what ye need around music.'_ He said. _'Music will bring you happiness, friends, and love.'_ The musician frowned. **'What a stupid thing. How am I supposed to learn if I can't play?'** The wizard just laughed. **'Ye'll get it when ye'll find the way. With them.'** 'But who's this them?' 'Three people who love music just like ye do.' And with that, the musician was left all alone again in the forest."

"What a sweet prediction."

"He began to walk again, not really knowing where he was going. He was thinking about the wizard when he saw a man in front of him. He was visibly younger, with dark hair and high cheekbones. He looked quite charming, it was almost supernatural. He just smirked when he saw the musician. **'Oh, a lost rabbit.'** He said. **'What are ye doin' 'ere, all alone?'** He had a very strong accent, which was surprising for such a mystic person. **'I'm lost.' 'Oh, how bad. C'm'ere, c'm'here..'** The musician didn't really know why, but he got closer. At this moment, he saw how long the man's fangs were. He remembered people in town, talking about a vampire hiding in the forest. Why was he in the forest, anyway? He was there to protect the castle, like the wizard."

"What a nice vampire, then."

"But he was hungry, you see. People said about him that he was always hungry, which was a problem sometimes. But the musician's blood seemed delicious, so the vampire put a hand on his shoulder, grabbing his clothes, and his fangs were about to bite his pale skin when a voice echoed behind him. **'Don't do that, vampire.'** It was a feminine voice, clear and beautiful. It wasn't the place where the voice belonged. Too precious for that, you see? The vampire stopped moving and he even stepped back. The musician saw a girl behind him, arched eyebrows and doe-eyes, long curly brown hair slowly caressing her back when she was walking. She came closer and stepped between the two men."

"She's brave."

"Probably more than she knows. So, she's between them, but she's looking at the musician with curiosity. **'Who are you?' 'I'm a musician.' 'I saw that. Why are you 'ere? How did ye do to come 'ere?'** The musician was surprised because she had an accent too. It broke a little bit the precious image he made of her. **'I came because I can't play music, but I love music.' 'Ye do? Really?' 'Yes, I do, princess.'** The princess stayed quiet and looked at the vampire, who seemed completely closed, yet a bit interested in the whole thing. **'Then, follow me, musician.'** she said. And the three of them left, the princess guiding them as if she perfectly knew every piece of the forest. The vampire was moving fast, and he was precise. He knew the place too. The musician was a bit lost, and it was hard not to fall again."

John stopped for a few minutes. Paul loved how he was able to invent a story based on almost nothing - well, them, obviously, but it wasn't that easy. Paul knew it ; he wasn't that much of a writer.

"The castle appeared in front of them. The musician wondered why they were there, but he didn't say a word and followed them inside. The vampire looked like he knew where he was, and the musician thought that it was weird. A vampire was supposed to be an evil creature, no? But he had no time to think about it ; the girl stopped in front of a huge piano, she sat down, and she played. Her fingers were moving fast on the piano keys and a beautiful sound came out of the instrument. _'She's the one'_ , thought the musician. He knew that he needed to stay with her if he wanted to play music. He took his guitar and played too. She turned and stopped playing, but it didn't broke the moment. She looked at him, and she looked so mature, so calm that he thought she was an angel. **'Play a D.'** , she said with her soft voice. **'What's a D?'** He asked, lost. **'Yer middle finger must go 'ere.'** This time, the vampire talked. He quickly showed him, and the musician did the job. The princess stood up, and she took a guitar from under the piano. **'My father doesn't like guitars.'** She explained while putting it around her, huge contrast between her sweet face, her big beige dress and the wooden guitar in her arms. She was a left-handed girl, so she just stood in front of him. It looked like a mirror, except she was a girl, and he was a boy. But she showed him how to do the trick, and he did it, and the vampire was looking with a small smile. **'No' tha' bad.'** He said. **'Do you know how to play, Mister Vampire?'** asked the musician. **'I do. I play the guitar. I have a lof ot free time, after all.'** The musician smiled. The wizard wasn't really crazy, then. **'But three guitars is no good.'** He quickly added, frowning, worried. The princess blushed a bit. **'I can sing. And I write songs. More or less.'** She quickly said, as if she wasn't really sure about it. **'Lovely, then. I write poetry, just a bit. We can use that. I guess I sing too.'** The vampire slowly nodded. **'M'too.'** But the musician frowned. **'Even with tha', something is missing. We need... we need..'** He thought about it. **'A beat. Drums. We need drums.'** He finally found what was missing."

"Oh, drums. I bet the princess is interested in that too."

"Yeah. **'I can't play the drums.'** The princess said, worried. **'But... But the wizard can, can't he?'** The vampire asked. It was quiet for a while, before they all headed naturally to the door. **'I heard him, once. He knows how to play. He's good.'** He said again. The musician raised an eyebrow. **'Ye're in love?' 'No. But he knows how to play.'** "

"I think our little vampire is in love."

"Probably. With that said, they all left the castle, and went to find the wizard once again. He was quietly waiting, sitting on a bench near his house. **'Here you finally all are.'** The musician frowned. What was that supposed to mean. **'Did you know?'** He asked. **'Yes, I see it.' 'Then, why didn't you tell me?' 'I'm not allowed to. Anyway, I guess I can play. And me house is big enough for us all. Come, come.'** They went inside. There was a small room where they all fit. And they played random silly songs."

"I don't think rock'n'roll existed.."

"It doesn't matter. They played for hours, and then for days. But the king was angry. His very first daughter, playing in a band ? And her future ? But the musician was in love with her, you see, so he told her. **'It's me and the band or your father and a future you don't want.'** She chose the music again. They lived a long life, all together, just playing music. They all learned how to love each other, and they grew used to each other. They became a real family and everyone knew them in town. They were playing for the town, then the country with no name, then the planet with no name. The end."

Paul stayed silent, holding him tightly against his body. John was smiling against his skin, feeling a bit tired now. He talked a lot. A silly story coming right from his silly mind.

"It was lovely, ta' Johnny."

"Mh-mh. Glad ye like it. But now, it's time to sleep, little girl."

"Yeah, probably. Goodnight, Johnny."

"Goodnight, Paulie."

The bassist gently kissed the oldest's forehead with a smile, and they both fell asleep soon after that.


	2. THE REALITY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When John wakes up, he has this little problem... and Paul helps with it.  
> Later, George wants to try something new, and Richard is okay to try with him because they're both so curious.  
> (yeah) (i'm still bad with this)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we go again, with the second chapter!  
> I wanted to post it earlier... but I just always wrote more and more and more.  
> So here we are, with a 8k words long chapter. Sorry. Or, uh, I don't know. I just hope it's okay with you.  
> I hope you'll like it !

The sun was gently caressing John's back. Slowly waking up, the first thing he heard were the birds outside. Then, he felt a hand on his head, a breath on his forehead. He opened his eyes, looked up. Paul was still sleeping, holding him tightly against his naked chest, a small, satisfied look on his face.

John wanted to stay like this, but he suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable, not exactly knowing why. A few seconds later, he remembered his dream.

_Paul's warm lips brushed against his throbbing member. John gasped, pulling uncounsciously his hair, making him moan. The bassist started to lick the painful length, and John thought that he would die like this, with his cock in his best mate's mouth. His entire body was shivering and shaking, and Paul was just using his tongue. Slowly, his lips brushed the tip, kissed it, licked it, and, finally, sucked it. John moaned louder than he excepted, and when he felt how warm his mouth was, he couldn't help pushing his body closer, just a little bit. Paul groaned, making them both shiver, but gently took his entire member in his mouth, eyes closed. John saw how his hand seemed busy thrusting his own painful masculinity. But he slowly began to go back and forth on him, first very slowly. John pulled his hair with a frustrated moan and Paul rolled his eyes at him, but he went faster. Sometimes, he would step back, lick his lips in a very attractive way. Using his hand for a few seconds, hewould only go faster with his mouth after._

_Soon, his shaky hands pulled Paul's hair again._

_"F-Fuck, Pau-aul... I'm... really c-close..."_

_Paul opened his eyes and looked at him, eyes full of lust. Oh, what a beautiful sight. John stepped back by himself, and his hand went directly on his member. Paul was still stroking himself, and he closed his eyes. He moaned, a lustful melody, and he came on his own chest, breathless. The sight was enough for Lennon, and he came on Paul's beautiful face. He tried to catch his breath, but slowly gave up. His legs were shaking so much he had to sit down in front of Paul. Paul. He looked at him, bit his bottom lip when he saw the white semen on his face. Without a word, the bassist wiped his face with his hand. John was about to apologize when Paul licked his fingers with a small groan._

Oh. **Oh.** So, that's why he felt uncomfortable. With a careful look, he checked if Paul was still asleep, and sighed in relief when he felt his calm breath on his face. He talked about controlling himself, and here he was, on his best friend, hard like a rock after a wet dream about him. No way he would let Paul know that.

Slowly, he stood up. Fuck, he already missed Paul's warmth. This sounded so queer. Well, dreaming about his best friend in this way was pretty queer too. He quickly made his way to the batroom, and stopped in front of the big mirror.

Was John queer?

He always wondered. He wasn't _queer_. He hated the word. But was he... interested in boys? In men?

Well, he probably did weird things in the past for fun. Nothing much. When they were in Hamburg, for example. It wasn't his choice when Paul was having sex with prostitutes not so far from him. Well, they wanked all together - the four of them - sometimes but it wasn't enough to say he was interested in men, right? He wasn't interested in men, then. It was just... just his mind, playing silly tricks to him.

He was still wearing his blue jeans from the previous day. And it felt much more tighter than it usually was. With a sigh, he rubbed his face and went back to the bedroom to take a shirt from Paul's closet. He noticed, on the floor, their shirts. They truly were kids. He took them and put them on a chair. Ah, how nice he was ! He turned around, and was about to take some new clothes when Paul moved in the bed.

"Johnny.." It was a soft, tired whisper.

John felt fingers around his wrist. Fuck fuck fuck. It wasn't the best timing. He bit his bottom lip and turned completely to look at Paul. His eyes were still closed but he was frowning, holding the blanket against him as if it was someone.

"John, don't leave... I'm cold..." He added while pulling him closer.

Okay. He really wanted to go back against him, but he really needed to get rid of that little problem down there.

"I'm sorry, Paulie, but I need to-"

Paul groaned and forced him to lay down next to him. Automatically, he put his arms around his chest, his legs tangling with his, dangerously close from the bump in his pants.

"P-Paul. I really need to go to the-"

"Hush..."

He leaned even closer, his body pressing against John's. John bit his bottom lip, closing his eyes. He could feel his member pushing against his jeans... and against Paul's thigh. But they stayed quiet for quite a while. He had no idea if it was just a few seconds or a few minutes, but Paul was calm against him, as if he was almost asleep.

"Control yerself, mh?" Mumbled the youngest with a small smirk, eyes still closed.

"Sod off. I wasn't planning that."

"Wet dream?"

"Kind of."

"Brigitte Bardot?"

"No, too bad."

"Who, then? None's better than Brigitte."

He opened his eyes for a few seconds, just to see John's face. His cheeks were red and he looked away. Paul thought that he looked like a guilty child, hiding from his parents' eyes. He arched an eyebrow and closed his eyes again, moving closer.

"Paul, I should really go take care of... that, you know."

"But you're warm... okay, _okay_. I'll move. Less awkward, I guess."

He shrugged and turned around, pressing his back to John's chest. He gasped and shook his head when he felt his bottom against his painful masculinity.

"Wait, no, no, no, Paul, this is worse!"

"What? Because of me arse?"

"Sod off, lemme go!"

"Well, I know I have a nice arse."

"You do, now, _please_ , Paul..."

"What if I do that?"

He slowly moved closer, his butt touching more and more John's sensitive little problem. A small gasp escaped his lips and once again, he turned bright red.

"Paul, don't-don't do tha'."

"Why?"

"C'm'on, Paulie."

"I'm not a genius nor a telepath, John."

"Don't need to be one to get it."

Once again, Paul pressed his bottom against him. John groaned this time. In just a movement, he was on top of Paul, his hands on the bed, just next to his ears. His eyes were dark and locked in Paul's. Auburn locks of hair were lazily falling around his face, some of them following his cheekbones.

"You don't want me to do naughty things to you, _right_ , Paulie?"

It was just supposed to be a game, something to scare him enough to make him give up.

"What if I do?"

John looked lost for a second. He wasn't planning this kind of answer. With a frown, he looked at Paul - how calm he was, not moving under him. As if he was accepting the situation.

"That'd be queer."

And he wasn't planning to say it like that. John was always saying things before checking out what he truly wanted to say. What if Paul ended hurt? He didn't want to be mean with him. Or to hurt him in any way. Actually, being that close seemed like the best idea he ever had - and the worst. Looking at his lips was so tempting, a real agony.

"Nothin' queer 'bout that, if it's you, Johnny."

John frowned a little bit more, unsure of what he was supposed to understand. Paul looked a bit hesitant too, but he put an arm around him and slowly pulled him closer, to the point where their naked chests were pressed together. In a few seconds, the gap between their two bodies was gone, and Paul's cheeks were slightly red.

"P-Paul, I..."

He bit his bottom lip, trying not to think of how he was awfully close to him ; he could feel his breath on his upper lip. Trying not to think of how he just had to move a little bit... and their crotches would meet.

"Kiss me, John."

It was an order. John's eyes widened, and Paul wondered for a second if he should have stay quiet. But if it wasn't now, when?

John closed his eyes, trying to understand why his heart was racing like crazy just because of three words, just because of the way he was saying his name, just because of their closeness.

Slowly, way too slowly, he leaned closer, closer, closer, and, finally, his lips were on Paul's.

They stayed still for a few seconds, too shocked to really do something. They never kissed another bloke before. Paul was the first one to move ; he lifted up his hand and cupped his cheek, keeping him close. John slowly began to move his lips for a shy, tender kiss. Not the kind of kiss he was fond of... but it was not that bad. Actually, it even was good. It felt good. Paul answered the kiss, and his hand slid to come on the back of his neck, playing with his hair.

But John had to break it off when he started to miss oxygen. His lips and his cheeks were a bit red. Paul was in the same state. They looked at each other for a long minute, not saying a word. It was obvious that they both liked it. And it felt weird, it felt wrong ; kissing a bloke was awful. Liking it was even worst. Yet, they couldn't help it. They couldn't help how good it felt, how strangely addicting they suddenly thought it was.

And Paul kissed him again, wildly. His body was waking up, realizing that this was better than everything he did before. And it was just a kiss. His mind went blank when he felt John biting his bottom lip, and he automatically opened his mouth. He frowned when John's tongue touched his, but they suddenly began to dance together, in a perfect harmony. As if they knew each other so well they actually knew how to perfectly do it, how their lips and their mouths were supposed to move.

John moved and a groan escaped him when he felt Paul's member against his through their pants. Paul slowly rocked his hips against John's while moaning, breaking the kiss. He was gasping, trying to catch his breath - in vain -, and his hands slid on the naked skin of his back, finally grabbing his bottom.

"Paul..." John slightly breathed.

His lips slid on his jawline, kissing his skin. He was able to feel the goosebumps running on Paul's soft skin. He smirked and kissed his neck, stopping on one special spot, near his collarbone, when Paul sighed a bit too loudly. He licked the small spot, bit it, and finally sucked on it, letting a bright red mark just there with a proud look. What were they doing? They both had no idea. But what's important in that kind of moment was the feelings, right? And they both felt good. They were both asking for more, and more, and more.

John teased Paul for a long time - which seemed like hours for Paul -, just licking and biting the soft skin of his chest and his neck. He quickly unbuckled his trousers and put them down, leaving the youngest in his underwear and carefully avoiding the visible bump. His lips went on his inner thigh and he bit the skin right there, making Paul whine under him.

"Please, Johnny, _please_..." He begged, his fingers softly pulling auburn locks of hair. John looked up while licking his hipbone.

"What, love? D'you need somethin', maybe?" He jokingly asked, raising a curious eyebrow. He was able to feel how Paul's body was waiting for more and how impatient he was.

"Touch me, for fuck's sake!" He impatiently groaned, arching his back when John pulled down his underwear, finally freeing him. He felt like cursing but words refused to come, so he just stayed quiet, looking at him - waiting for his next move. He had to remind himself that he needed oxygen to live, and took a shaky breath while John was still just looking at him - studying him.

"J-John.." He slowly groaned, and, this time, John looked up at him, blinked a few times. It felt so weird.

He saw naked men before. He saw Paul naked before. But knowing the situation in which they both were... it was... unusual, for sure. He slowly licked his own hand and wrapped his fingers around his cock. Paul let out a small sigh and pushed his hips up, trying to force him to move his hand. Which was a success. Just a few seconds later, John's hands was going up and down his shaft even if he could feel how hesitant and unsure he was.

After all, it was a first time. Well, kissing him - a man - was a first time too. And now, his hand was around another man's cock. It was a bit too much to handle at the moment and he decided to go slow, just taking his time to accept it. He could feel the weight in his hand, the warmth coming out of it, and the small sighs of Paul. He didn't know why, but Paul stayed quiet, even if he knew that he wanted him to go faster. And it was only normal, because he was awfully slow, and Paul was completely hard now. Maybe he understood that it felt a little bit too weird at the moment for John. He hoped so, anyway.

But he wasn't afraid or anything. And he thought that he gave himself enough time, and, even if he wanted to stay like this for longer, he started to move his hand faster. Paul groaned, and he pushed himself up again, a few times.

"M-More..." And he was almost begging, biting his bottom lip a bit too hard.

John was slowly getting more confident, and he went faster on him. He knew how to please him. Because he was a man too. He knew what he wanted, and he knew what Paul wanted - and needed. With his thumb, he brushed the tip of his shaft. Paul arched his back and moaned, eyes tightly closed. A smirk appeared on John's lips and his nervousness was thrown somewhere in the back of his mind. Time to make him whine, sigh, groan and moan. Gosh, he wanted to hear him. Way too badly.

He squeezed his shaft, pressed his thumb against his tip, tried various angles. Everytime, Paul moaned louder, arched his back more, pulled John's hair or pressed himself against him. And John was able to feel how his body was reacting to everything he did to him. Soon enough, Paul was moaning his name loudly, and waves of pleasure were going through him. His thighs were shaking and holding John really close.

At this moment, John stopped moving. His hand was still on his base. Paul frowned and groaned in frustration, opening his eyes to look at him.

"Jesus fucking Christ, John, why-"

He was cut by John's tongue. Not on his lips. Or his neck. Or his chest.

No, because his tongue brushed against the sensitive head of his cock.

A long moan escaped him but he didn't close his eyes ; he had to see it. Was John going to suck him off? If it was a yes, no way he would miss that by closing his eyes. No matter how good it felt. But John seemed hesitant again. Nervous. Scared. Sucking the dick of his best mate wasn't an easy thing to do.

"J-John, you-you don't have to if... if you don't feel like doing it." He said, and gently caessed his hair, trying not to think of how John's breath was warm on his member and how his lips were brushing against it. "For real, I don't mind just... with your hand... It's fine too. Really. You don't have to do it if you don't want to.."

John rolled his eyes at him while listening to his try to cheer him up. But waiting to be ready seemed impossible for the eldest. So, without any kind of warning, he pushed his lips on his shaft and try to take everything he could in his mouth.

Seemed like his mouth was small. Girls took a lot more. He blushed and thought that he would just step back and give up and ask Paul to forget about that. But, at the same time, a way too loud groan echoed through the bedroom, and Paul's hand went on his own mouth. Not because he wanted to cover it ; he was biting on his fingers, trying to contain himself.

"Oh my fucking God, Jo-hnny, you..." Ending his sentence was impossible, and he gave up quickly.

It was enough to give John confidence. He closed his eyes to focus on his own mouth. He opened up as much as he could and frowned because he knew his jaw would hurt all day long. But it was fine because it was for Paul. And Paul was only getting louder and louder - thank God this was his house.

But thinking wasn't really a great thing when he was feeling how Paul was everywhere in his mouth, warm and wet with his saliva. So, he stopped thinking about how queer they both were, how stupid this might be - how Paul might hate him for it later. He focused on his own feelings, on how he needed him, how he wanted him. How Paul was shivering, moaning and how his fingers were pulling his hair.

So he started to move back and forth on his shaft, and he allowed it to go deeper and deeper in his mouth. Not too deep ; he knew girls didn't like it, and, for a first time, no way he would choke on his cock.

"Oh, Jesus- John.." He moaned and tried his best not to hurt him while pulling his hair.

But John knew how sensitive Paul was. They all knew when one of them was having a bird home for the night. Or a girlfriend. So, they all knew that Paul was too deep in the song he was trying to make to make out with someone. He complained about it often, about how long two weeks without sex were, and they all laughed everytime. But he still stayed calm and focused on his song. So, Paul was frustrated and sensitive. John knew it, and he felt it. The way his body was arching because of his mouth.

"Ye're... doin' good, love..." This time, Paul caressed his cheekbone, and a moan escaped him when he felt his own cock going in and out of John's mouth.

John tried to remember what he liked himself. Cynthia was a nice girl - oh yes, very polite, lovely and gentle - but she wasn't a huge fan of sex. She was a bit shy, and John always thought it was too bad, because she had a nice body, and John dreamt of doing a lot of naughty things to her.

He thought about it while pulling out. Then, his tongue was around the tip again, and he sucked it for a few seconds. Paul groaned louder.

"J-John.. Aaah.. You're so... b-beautiful..." He managed to say but his words ended in a moan when John took him entirely back in his mouth after he answered him with a quick "you too, Paulie".

Paul arched his back even more, his hips following John's mouth, even when John sped up. He started to like it. How manly Paul smelt, how he could feel the veins against his lips. He absentmindedly caressed his balls, and Paul cried his name.

"Ohh, Johnny, please... I'm so... cl-close!"

John tried to step back ; no way. Sucking his best mate's cock was a thing ; swallowing his cum was totally another kind of awful thing he wasn't ready to do.

But it was too late. He felt a warm liquid on his tongue. He pulled out, but he still stroke him, not really thinking about it. He just looked at him, trying to record the face he was making, the sound who escaped him. This time, the white, sticky semen landed on his face. And it did the same thing a few times. John could feel it against his cheeks, his lips, his chin. It was weird. Sticky. And his mouth was still opened, refusing to think of how he had some on his tongue - jesus christ. John Lennon had Paul McCartney's semen on his tongue.

"G-God, I'm so-sorry, John, I..."

He started to apologize, but his cheeks were red and he was panting, still lost in his own pleasure. He was shaking, his orgasm still powerful, and John could almost feel the waves of pleasure that were going through the bassist. The bassist who clumsily tried to wipe his own liquid away from John's cheek. John frowned and took his hand. He licked his thumb, collecting it while looking at him with passion. It sent butterflies in Paul's stomach and he stayed still, mouth opened in a funny way.

"Close your mouth, honey.." John said, and Paul blinked, as if he wasn't really understanding his words. Then, he closed his mouth, blushed like a young virgin girl, and John smirked.

"You... You just..." He tried to say, but the words were tangling in his mouth and he wasn't able to think straight, not with John covered with his cum.

"Yeah. Wanted to try it. Just... the taste and everythin', you kno'." The eldest answered with a shrug while licking his lips, frowning.

" _And?_ What's the sentence?"

He looked curious. And he was right to be. Girls always were a bit reluctant to swallow it, but even if John grimaced first, he didn't say anything else.

"Not that bad. Salty, yeah. I wouldn't have it at breakfast-" He stopped, laughed when he realized that it was actually time for breakfast. "Well, you kno' what I mean. But I thought it would be... worse."

"You liked it?"

"No, not really. But I don't _hate_ it. You're curious? Wanna taste it?"

Paul, who had tilted his head on the side, frowned and stepped back with a grimace. John chuckled.

"No way. I'm not tastin' me own..." He moved his hand towards John's face, and already regretted his words when he saw the smirk on John's lips. This smirk only meant bad ideas and things Paul wasn't able to resist. John had this power... he could make Paul do everything he wanted just with a smirk and a challenging light in his eyes.

"Don't have to taste your own, you know." He said, raising an eyebrow in a teasing way. "I wouldn't say no to you.."

Again, Paul opened his mouth, looking almost horrified, while John cleaned his face with his fingers, licking the semen on his hand with a small smirk, still looking right into his hazel eyes. The thought alone was lovely. It brought John's dream back in his mind and his eyes darkened even more.

"What? _You scared?_ " He asked, and let his other hand slide on Paul's chest. He almost looked like a predator, teasing his prey, waiting to see what he would do or say next.

"I- No, I'm not.. I..." The bassist clumsily tried to say, but he blushed even more when he felt John's member against his leg. He closed his eyes for a second, thinking about what he wanted. He gathered every ounce of bravery he had, and bit his bottom lip. When he opened his eyes, John was looking at him, dark eyes and short breath.

"I.. O-Okay. I can try, I guess. Maybe not the whole thing b-but..."

John looked truly surprised. Paul seemed a bit scared, but he looked amused by his reaction. He used his hips to roll them over, straddling John's legs with a small smile. He just had to do what girls used to do on him, right? What John did. Easy. Nothing hard in this. Well, except John-

"PAUL ! FOR CHRIST'S SAKE OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR OR I'M KICKING IT OPEN!"

They both froze and turned towards the noises. Now, the bangings on the door seemed awfully loud. George's voice was clearly pissed off and he kept complaining.

"IS JOHN STILL WITH YOU?"

It was Ringo's deep voice, now. Paul seemed to realize what was happening and he clumsily stood up, almost falling on the floor - thank God, John managed to catch him by the waist.

"Uh- Yeah ! I'm- I'm coming. Two seconds!" He shouted back, and turned to look at John with wide eyes.

"It's okay, Paulie. I'm sure they didn't... get it. Don't worry. Get dressed, I'll... take a shower. And get rid of... yeah."

He showed his face and looked for a second at his pants. Paul looked too, swallowed - John could see his Adam's apple going up and down. He leaned closer and kissed him there, leaving a small hickey on his clavicle. Paul moaned weakly and automatically put a hand on the love bite.

"You crazy? What if..." He started, but John rolled his eyes at him and kissed him wildly, leaving him a few seconds later alone and breathless.

"Ugh, I hate you, Johnny!"

"Love you too, honey! Now, don't worry, get dressed and open the door! The boys are gonna die!"

He sent him a kiss while grabbing a suit in Paul's closet, disappearing in the bathroom once again. Paul rolled his eyes, blushed and quickly dressed up. He just put a loose shirt, not even buttoning it, and a pair of grey pants he only used at home.

On the other hand, George was tapping his foot on the floor, looking pretty annoyed. Ringo was leaning against the wall in front of Paul's door, waiting patiently while smoking.

"What a fuckin' joke. We're gonna be bloody late because they probably just slept too much!" George said, chewing on his bottom lip.

"I'm sure Eppy'll understand. It's fine, Geo, mhhh."

He hummed and George rolled his eyes. How was he always so calm? He looked at him and leaned closer. Richard frowned and looked up, raising an eyebrow. The next second, George stole his cigarette and put it between his own lips with a satisfied smile.

"Hey, it's mine!" Richard pouted like a child.

The guitarist smirked, took a drag of the cigarette and blew his smoke on Richard's face.

"There you go, love."

"So rude, Georgie. Give it back. Please?"

He walked closer, insisting with his big blue puppy eyes. Nobody was able to resist him. Not when he was looking at people like that. George smiled and took another drag, this time blowing the smoke in the air above Richard's head.

"Give us a kiss, first?" George asked, leaning even closer with a sly smile.

Richard raised an eyebrow, smirked, looked around as if he was not really sure about what to do. George rolled his eyes but smiled more when he felt Richard's lips on his cheek. He wasn't keen on physical contacts - he disliked it most of the times and avoided everything involving people touching him. But he didn't mind it when it was the boys. After all, he knew Paul for years and years. And John was fine. But when it was Richard... It was a bit different. He could't put his finger on the problem, but didn't give it much thought.

He was lost in his thoughts when Richard's fingers brushed his lips. He frowned, but Ringo took the cigarette out of his mouth, putting it back where it belonged. He smiled and slowly let go of his smoke, letting it roll between them. His eyes locked with the drummer's and he refrained the urge to kiss his forehead.

He almost forgot about John and Paul, about where they were and why they were here. Richard was so lovely ; he was able to make him forget about his worries, his fears. He licked his lips absentmindedly, and suddenly, everything went back in his mind. They had to go to work. And the boys were late.

But Paul quickly opened the door. George turned and frowned.

His face was red and he looked unusually in a good mood. Even if George knocked on the door for ten long minutes. His eyes were sparkling lazily.

He tried to focus on something else when he felt Richard's smoke brushing his cheek, but he didn't, his eyes going from Paul's messy hair to the way he was dressed. How his shirt was opened. He saw hickeys on his collarbone and some on his chest.

Weird.

He frowned even more and stood still while Ringo came in, talking with Paul. Well, he would have to talk about this with Richard later. He came inside the flat too, quiet. Paul turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow.

"All quiet again, Georgie?"

"No. Had fun with a bird?" He asked back, looking directly at the hickeys.

Paul blushed. Fuck. He had totally forgot about that. He turned to go in the kitchen, touching his hickeys.

"Uh- yeah, I- yeah."

Ringo chuckled and followed him in the kitchen. George quickly followed and his mouth watered when he saw that Paul was going to cook scrambled eggs. He went to sat on the counter, looking at him, lost in his thoughts. Ringo threw his cigarette in the ashtray and looked up at George with a raised eyebrow. A silent conversation went between them, and George ended it with a "we have to talk" look that Richard, of course, got. He nodded and turned to help Paul.

A few minutes later, John appeared in the kitchen. He was wearing one of Paul's black suit, and his mop top was damp but he didn't seem to mind. A small smile came on his lips and he sniffed the air.

"I'm starvin'. Hi, boys." He waved his hand at them and took a cup of coffee, yawning and caressing his stomach. He caught Paul's stare and they just looked at each other. George raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.

They all ate breakfast - even Ringo and George, talking about random things. George stayed quiet, just looking at them. It was weird. John and Paul looked at each other too much - and Paul blushed a few times. John seemed weirdly proud too.

Richard just was too innocent to think about anything. And he looked deadly cute this day too, with his black turtleneck. He turned to look at Paul, unaware of George's thoughts and stare.

"So, how was this bird?" He asked with an amused smile.

"Mh?" Paul cocked his head on the side, taking a sip of his tea with a small frown. His face lit up when he understood what Richard was talking about.

"Oh, uh, you know. Just... yeah. Nice and everythin'." He said with a shrug.

John put his elbows on the table, resting his head on his fists with a smirk. George raised an eyebrow.

"C'mon, Paulie, give us some details!"

"Nah, it's embarrassing, Ritchie."

This time, Richard didn't look convinced by his words. He finished his scrambled eggs in a few seconds and shook his head.

"You, Paul McCartney, don't want to share your sexual experiences because you're embarrassed? Not to me, son."

" _You scared?_ " John asked, and Paul looked at him for a second. Something seemed to exist between the two of them. George wondered what changed but he didn't feel like asking. He had to talk about it with Richard first. Just to be sure he wasn't paranoid.

"It's just..." He hesitated once again and looked back at Richard.

"What? You did it with an ol' grand-ma' or somethin'? Or you weren't able to do it? Must be really embarrassing if you don't wanna talk about it."

"Ugh, no, nothin' like tha'."

"Then, it's okay, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. We just... didn't finish it, ye kno'."

"Oh, it doesn't matter. How was she?"

"She, uh... had a... really nice mouth."

"Mhhh, she had?" John asked with a fake, innocent, curious smile on his stupid face. Paul wanted to hit him on the moment, but he looked back at him with a smirk.

"Yeah. Surprisingly, for a first time, she did really well."

"Ohh, first time? Didn't know you were into unexperienced girls." Richard commented.

"Well, I'm not into them. She's just... different, I guess."

"Tell us more?" George asked, wondering if he could understand what was going on between them. It was so weird. And he hated being left on the side - even if it was with Richard.

"She was really hot. She hesitated at first, you know, but she didn't mind it that much when I was in her mouth." His cheeks were burning and he took a sip of tea. "I, uh, couldn't hold it back, so, mh..."

"In her mouth?" Richard asked, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"N-No. No way she would let me do it. Not completely. Just... her _face_ , you know."

"Nice." He slowly nodded, leaning back against the chair as if he was discussing about the last day's news.

"Yeah.. unexpected, she.. tasted it. And she liked it, _a real little slut_." He said quietly, deep voice. His eyes stopped on John. Their knees were touching under the table and he caressed John's leg with his foot with a small smile.

"What a lucky boy you are, then." It was John's turn to comment and he just smirked.

The breakfast ended like this, and they didn't talk about it much more when Paul left to get properly dressed, after a quick shower.

Then, it was time to go to work. When they appeared in the studios, they were late, and Eppy was visibly on one of those days where he felt overwhelmed by everything - and he was. He just complained quickly and left to take care of something the boys weren't interested in.

Instead of following him like some would have done, they went inside of their studio, took their instruments, and it was it. They played, again, all day long, recording a few songs between cigarettes and small talks.

But, it was time for a break. John left without a word, and, soon after, Paul followed, mumbling something about being back in a few minutes. George saw the opportunity, and he grabbed Richard's sleeve.

"Hey. Let's go. I wanna talk to you about somethin'."

Richard looked up in surprise, but nodded and stood up. They got out of the studio and headed for the bathroom. George checked the corridor was empty before leaning closer.

"Don't you think the boys are weird, today?"

"Well, they're always weird, you know. We are, too. That's The Beatles." He said with a chuckle and a shrug.

"I'm serious, Ritchie. I don't know, it just felt... strange. I don't really know _why_ but, just..."

"Paul was a bit weird this mornin', yeah, but that's all."

"More than weird. His hickeys, the way he looked at John while talking about the bird he shagged..."

"What are you tryin' to say, George?" Richard asked, frowning when he started to understand what George was implying.

"You know, just... It's _weird_. Paul hadn't hickeys yesterday. And he went home with John after we left the studios. No way he could have fucked a bird with John in the bed, right?"

"Now that you say it like that, you're not wrong... But what, do you think they... they're like Brian?"

George stayed quiet, biting his bottom lip. When he heard a noise coming from the corridor - footsteps getting closer, he took Ringo's sleeve again and pushed the bathroom's door. He took him inside, silently closed the door between them. They both froze when they heard weird noises, and they looked at each other with wonder. They went closer to one of the cabin. They went inside carefully, and frowned. Two people were definitely making out inside the one on their left.

Without any warning or any word said, they both stood up on the toilet, holding onto the wall in silence. Richard had to stand up on his toes to see what was going on inside of the other cabin.

And when they both saw it, they hardly managed to refrain surprised gasps.

Paul was squeezed between John and the door. They were kissing - wildly. George could see their tongues. The way Paul's hands grasped John's hips, pulling him closer and moaning in his mouth... it wasn't a mistake.

Ringo forced him to hide his head. The next second, Paul was talking, breath short and low voice.

"J-John, mhh... we can't.. we have to- ahh, no, John... we have to go back..."

"Just five more minutes... The boys already interrupted us this mornin', we can just.."

"You kno' I'd love to... do what I... was about to - _mmh_ \- do but we, we can't, John..."

John groaned but he stepped back. George could hear how he was smirking through his voice.

"Mmmh, then, tonight?" He asked, and George heard a few kisses.

"Y-yeah, okay, tonight..."

"Lovely. Can't wait to see this lovely mouth of yours around my cock."

Ringo almost gasped. George just had time to put his hand against his mouth with a warning glare.

"Ah, stop it, ye git. Let's go, now, mh?"

And they both left, leaving George and Ringo alone. The eldest's feet touched the floor, forcing George to do the same, and he sat down on the toilets with a lost look.

"Oh, gosh, you were right!" He said while rubbing his face.

"Told you. They were... acting weird."

"So, Paul's bird..."

"Was John. The poor lad is frustrated, now."

"They're... _queer_? And they didn't even tell us?"

"Maybe they're scared."

"That's stupid. I mean, we all know Brian is, and John's the meanest with him. We're both pretty nice. I mean, I don't mind it. He does what he wants with his dick."

"Yeah. Me too. I'm fine with it. It just hurts, you know? I've known Paul for years. I thought I knew him pretty well by now... and he didn't even talk about this?"

Richard shook his head and patted him on the shoulder with an apologizing look. George frowned when his own stare fell on the drummer's lips.

"It can't be that good."

"What?"

"Snogging a bloke."

"I can't tell you, I don't know." Richard shrugged and nervously chuckled when George leaned closer, his blue eyes trying to catch his stare in vain.

They stayed like that for a few seconds. Richard had no idea what George was thinking about, leaning that close, but he just couldn't pushed him away. He knew he should... but he couldn't. His body wasn't listening to the small voice in his mind, whispering to stop what the future might hold for the both of them while he still could.

"G-George.." He tried, but the guitarist seemed lost in his thoughts, just looking at his lips. And Richard swore his eyes darkened even more.

"They looked like they... _enjoyed_ it." George finally said and he forced himself to look into Ringo's blue eyes. Oh, how innocent he looked. He could see a whole blue galaxy in his eyes.

"I guess." Ringo whispered. He knew George. He knew that if he stepped back now, George wouldn't be mad or angry at him. Maybe he'd do the same, stepping back. Maybe he'd curse, apologize and never talk about this for years and years.

Maybe, yes.

Did he want to step back? That was the thing ; the only wall still standing between them. George didn't bother with all of this. He just decided to go with the feeling ; and he felt like tasting Richard's lips. He didn't really care about how wrong this was, how insane he might be. He wanted Richard.

So, he leaned even closer. He could feel Ringo's breath on his bottom lip, the tension between them, the way his lips almost brushed against his... It was a slow, painful agony. Yet, it was needed. He didn't want to scare him off. Or to scare himself off.

But it was just too _tempting_ to not at least try.

"Richard." He called him, and Richard looked up at him, only to shyly look back at his lips while he was talking. "Can... Can I..?"

Richard's eyes frozed on the way George licked his lips. He saw his fangs and he thought that he wouldn't mind to feel them on his neck - biting his skin.. Shit. This wasn't really a heterosexual thought, right?

Was he queer? What would people think? What if somebody saw them? He felt so nervous suddenly. But George felt it too. He saw it in his eyes, in the way his face fell. Gently, his hand cupped his cheek, and, when he talked, his lips completely brushed against Ringo's.

"Please, Richard.." It was just a whisper, shy but heated, as if he really... needed it. As if he was craving for it, now. "Just- Just a try..."

Richard closed his eyes, focusing on his feelings, on his thoughts. He had to be sure of it. And he had his answer. He opened his eyes again and he felt a little bit more confident, and his chest tightened in anticipation. But the knot on his throat disappeared.

"Fuck it." He groaned, and his voice was a bit too deep, too low, making his needs pretty clear.

George just had time to take a shaky breath ; then, his lips were pressed against Ringo's. It was a clumsy, shy kiss, and they stayed still for just a small second. Then, they started to move their lips together.

George thought that his lips felt rougher than a girl's... and softer at the same time. They both tried to take control of the kiss, of the other... but when they understood that there was no need to do so, they slowly let go. George was the one deepening it, cocking his head on the side to get a better access. Ringo's hands slowly went around his neck, and, one way or another, he was standing up, pressed against George.

They stepped back only to take a long breath. Then, they kissed again, a little bit more wildly, and Richard's tongue gently caressed George's bottom lip. It was enough, and George understood ; he parted his lips, finally opening them. Soon, their tongues were brushing against the other's, and small sighs were escaping from their mouths.

"Geo, you there, mate?"

George stepped back as if someone burned him and he quickly looked down at Richard, searching an absent answer. The poor lad seemed as lost and panicked as he was... But they still stayed in each other's arms, refusing to let go. They just felt good.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm here, Johnny."

"Great, break's over. Paul think you can help with this new song of his, you know, with the chords. I'll help too."

"Mh, okay. I, mh, I'll be back in just one minute or something."

"No problem. Do you know where Ringo went? Can't find him."

They both looked at each other. Richard raised his eyebrows, suggesting that they should tell him. George frowned, shook his head but he bit his bottom lip when he saw how serious Richard looked.

"M'here too."

John stayed quiet for a moment. George thought that he didn't hear Richard's comment ; or maybe he left. Next thing he knew, the door opened and John appeared in front of them, frowning. He certainly wasn't expecting that.

"Jesus Christ - you..."

His words died somewhere between his brain and his mouth and he just looked at the way they were hugging, their red cheeks, Richard's hands still around George's neck... Slowly, a smirk appeared on his lips and he raised a mocking eyebrow.

"Oh. _Oh._ I see. I see very well. Oh."

"Oh." George answered, pretty lost. He wondered if an angry John wouldn't be better. John with his amused, mocking, knowing smirk was just...

"Oh, oh."

"Oh, oh, ohhh."

Well, maybe this was like a little game between George and John ; because Ringo couldn't understand a thing about those weird "oh". He rolled his eyes at them and slowly let his hands fall back against his own body, crossing them on his chest, waiting for the boys to stop. Which worked, because George automatically looked at him in wonder - he liked having his hands around his neck and he already missed them.

"We should go back, lads. Paul's gonna kill us. And I don't feel like dying right now." Richard talked first, not wanting them to go with their "oh" again. No way.

"That would be a drag. I still have a lot of things to try on you."

John talked and he moved his eyebrows in a weird way. George looked at him while gently pushing him out of the cabin, following him out of it with a groan.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing for you to worry about, Georgie. Don't worry. I'm not stealin' your man."

"I, we..." He tried, not really knowing what to say with this new statement. His face became a bit too red. His man. Ringo looked at him and followed them, checking his hair in the mirror behind them.

"I guess he's stuck with me for now, Johnny, sorry. And Paul would feel **so** lonely without your kisses."

John looked pretty surprised. _So, they knew? How?_ He blinked, frowned, looked at the both of them, raised his eyebrows, and finally smirked. Not like he cared that much about them knowing the truth. Since he knew too... it was fair. A secret for a secret. It worked like that. And he trusted them anyways. He just whistled, feeling surprisingly good, and walked out of the loos.

A few minutes later, they were all back in the studios. John automatically came near Paul, and George looked at them when they started to talk. First, Paul was frowning. Then, he opened his mouth, blushed, and he caught George's stare. But Paul wasn't really looking at him - he was just too focused on John's words. George could almost read on Paul's lips when he talked.

"Wait, John.. Are you serious?" He -probably- said, rubbing his temple while John just chuckled.

Then, he frowned again. The next second, he looked utterly shocked. This time, he looked directly at George, and John did too. The bassist looked so.. surprised, meanwhile John just was amused. As always.

So, George guessed John tell him about what happened. He shrugged at them but a small, happy, proud smile came on his lips. He was with Ringo, now. Well, not like they said it out loud clearly, but Ringo did said that he was "stuck" with him, right?

He lost his smile and turned to look at the drummer, absentmindedly tightening his grip on his guitar's neck. Ringo meant it, right? He slowly walked until he was close enough to talk to him.

"R-Richard?"

The other lad looked up, playing with his drumsticks like a kid, rolling them around his fingers, a cigarette stuck between his lips. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to talk. The microphone was too far away to catch their voices.

"You... We..."

He tried. But the words refused to come out. He could almost hear John's mocking voice in his mind. 'Well, son, you scared? Of lil' ol' Ritchie?' No way. He wasn't scared or anything near that. He just felt... insecure. Why was Richard interested in someone like him? Was he even interested?

"What, Geo?"

"I, uh... earlier..."

"Mh? What about earlier?"

"Why...?"

"Why? You asked, didn't you?" Richard said, frowning, looking a bit scared too, now. George wanted it too, no? "You- you didn't like it?"

"No, no, I mean, yes, but no, I..." George stopped himself, blushing and cursing. "I liked it. Really."

"Me too. That's great, then. Where's the problem? You look so... weird." 

Richard chuckled, saying things so easily - George wished he'd be like that.

"I just... Are we... like... You know."

"C'mon, Georgie. It's just me, you know? Your good, lil' ol' Richard. You can talk to me 'bout everythin'. I won't mind. Everything's alright."

"Yeah, I guess." He shyly chuckled and scratched the back of his head. "I just wondered if we... Are we... together?"

"Yeah. D'you wanna be me... well, me boyfriend?" 

The word felt weird. Unusual. Actually, it wasn't used. Not by boys. Richard cocked his head on the side and gosh, George wanted to kiss him again. He smiled, instead, and shut his mind up.

"Seems like a good idea."

And they both smiled wider and chuckled and refrained their urge to kiss each other.

In the background, Paul and John clapped like kids and looked at each other with the same happy smiles on their four faces.

"Well, if we aren't all the kings of Queerland!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLAP, it's the end!  
> Thank you very much. I hope you liked it. The plot's a bit weak, and I'm not that good, but I hope you still enjoyed it. I'll write more... deep things later. (I have a lot of ideas eh)  
> Anyways, don't hesitate to give me your thoughts or advices or ideas or just anything that cross your mind ! Mistakes or anything.   
> Now, good night / good day / just basically wishing you a great something!  
> (and, again, sorry if there's a lot of mistakes. I can't speak english that well. I'm not english, and I just learn it at school eh.)


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